Hidden In Darkness (A Seven Realms Book Book 1)

by S. J. Stewart

  She wasn’t sure, but it looked like pictures she’d seen in legends of a Wendigo.

  Next to the Wendigo was a large red figure. He had horns too, but his were short, maybe just a few inches long. Aside from the red of his skin and his largeness, he looked very human. Black lines that looked like runes and sigils were spaced out over his skin, separating the red. They were even on his face. A Demon.

  Great, she thought.

  The last was just a moving black shadow. She had no idea what it could be. It floated in the air next to the Demon, constantly moving and twisting, black smoke floating around it.

  The symbols on the bow lit a dull red before she fired and time sped up.

  Arrow after arrow was loosed from her bow, sinking into being after being. The question of whether or not she was adequate with a bow fled her mind as arrows sunk between the eyes of anyone she aimed at. Flames danced across the arrows she fired, whomever they sunk into bursting into flames.

  Despite Ridhor’s words, this was no normal bow.

  No matter how many arrows she fired, her quiver was always full. Enchanted by magic.

  Her heart beat slow and steady and she could feel the pull of Zura. A string wrapped around her heart, telling her exactly where she was. She held onto that feeling in her chest as she moved, quickly closing the distance between her and the cop car. Although now, guns seemed to be less of a necessity.

  Better to grab them just in case, she was taking no chances here.

  The bevy of magical beings was clearly over a hundred strong. No matter how many she took down, the four figures just watched. Waiting.

  Waiting for what, she had no idea. She wasn’t in the mood to ask questions.

  At the police car, she dropped behind it for cover as she grabbed hold of the officer’s holster and pulled the gun free, then the other. She searched them for extra bullets. Unlike her quiver, she knew this ammo wasn’t going to magically replenish.

  Pausing for a moment, Melas let her eyes shoot back to where Ridhor stood with Zura. Ridhor’s axes sliced through anyone that got close, a pile of bodies in front of him.

  A gut-wrenching roar shook the ground under her feet. The horde seemed to move as one, their faces turning to look over to where she crouched.

  That couldn’t be good.

  The guns felt familiar in her hands. She held them both for a moment before setting them down on the ground by her feet, anchoring another arrow. She would use the guns if she had to. There was still a lot of them left and she didn’t want to waste ammunition.

  The curve of the bow warmed in her hand, the runes lighting again at her touch as she took in another slow breath. They flickered from the dull red to a bright white.

  Her burning arrows sliced through the air, hitting their mark leaving burnt husks behind. Determination fuelled her, but she couldn’t help notice the numbers still felt heavy. She would kill one and two more would take its place.

  Orren and Andrei tried to cut through the mass to make their way towards her.

  With another roar and all attention on her, it was obvious what they were here for.

  Melas.

  Pulling a blade from her waist, she swung it through the air. It connected with the shaft of a black arrow soaring towards her, cutting it from the air just as it was about to meet her skin. The memory of a similar arrow sinking into her side floated to the surface of her mind for a moment before it was gone.

  Unleashing more arrows, she groaned in frustration. They were getting nowhere.

  Ridhor growled, catching her attention.

  Where he stood guarding Zura there was now a massive bear, larger than any she’d ever seen. The axes lay abandoned on the floor as he waved his big paws through the air, batting the beings in front of him like flies. On his hind legs, he dropped his massive head, picking someone up in his sharp teeth before ripping their head from their shoulders and casting them aside.

  This was Ridhor in his bear form. His chest had bald patches where she knew his scars littered his flesh. Her eyes moved from him to the dark shadow where Zura should be. She could still feel her there but she moved further into the alcove, out of her view.

  Good.

  Pain radiated her side as an arrow sunk into the flesh of her shoulder. She hissed through her teeth, cursing herself for losing her focus. It was sloppy, she couldn’t get sloppy now. Her flesh sizzled where the arrow sunk in, a sickly sour scent wafting out of the wound.

  Christ, it hurt.

  Grabbing hold of the shaft, she pulled it free. The head of the arrow dissolved as it hit the air. Her arm felt slightly weak holding the bow now, whatever was in her shoulder still sizzling as blood came out of the wound to darken the white of her shirt and trail down her chest. Switching the bow to her opposite hand, she anchored another arrow.

  They just kept coming.

  Pulling her bow over her shoulder, she picked up the guns she set on the ground in front of her. The barrels of the Glock 22s warmed and extended, carvings stretched out of the length of the long barrels, the guns transforming into Colts. The body of the revolver black steel, the grips in her hands a shimmering gold.

  Her mouth gaped for a moment before she aimed and fired.

  The bullet exploded out of the barrel, the force almost visible as it sunk between the eyes of a Ghoul before sending everyone in the horde stumbling back, falling to their knees. A few closer to the front went ass over end as they flipped back and away from her.

  Shock was clear on her face as she held the gun up to inspect. Her eyes went over the crowd to find Orren and Andrei, their eyes wide as they got to their feet, just as confused as she was.

  A deep bellow came from the four who watched. The Minotaur took a step forward, smoke rising from his nostrils as his red eyes held hers. The challenge was clear.

  The force from the gunshot was enough to keep most on their knees. Dark figures pop up around the edge of the ward. Evenly spaced around the street of Hollywood Boulevard, she counted eight of them in total. Their black cloaks making them look like Death.

  Reapers.

  They stood there, their gaping sleeves clasped together. Slowly raising their hands, all the bodies between them disappeared. It drastically thinned the horde, causing all the hairs on her arms to stand on end.

  She felt she was constantly in a dance with a Reaper. Seeing them here now, so many in one place, drove that thought home.

  Wherever she went, Death always followed.

  The Minotaur raced towards her, his large arms slicing through those foolish enough to not get to their feet and scramble out of the way. Bodies flew through the air, his hooves cracking the pavement under his feet as he quickly closed the space between them.

  The air was filled with the smell of burnt flesh and a sense of dread.

  Orren intercepted him, his small frame seeming no match for the Minotaur’s towering form, made Melas want to run to his defence. A wall of magic appeared between them and the Minotaur slammed into it. He slammed over and over and Melas was waiting for it to crack and splinter as it had when they were fighting in Ridhor’s cottage, but it held firm. Magic flew out of his hands, it shocked through all those in the hordes around them, dropping them to the ground.

  Another wave of the Reapers hands and those knocked down disappeared.

  She heard Minotaurs were unintelligent, animal-like beings, but she was proved wrong when a leather whip was unhooked from his belt. He swung it around the side of the ward, its leather wrapping around Orren and slamming him into the blue magic shield.

  It faltered for a moment when he hit it.

  The Minotaur swung the whip again.

  Orren hit the ward three times before it disappeared, unable to hold it in place any longer.

  The ward overhead still held strong.

  A flurry of magic surrounded him as Orren went head-to-head with the Minotaur, intent on keeping him back from her.

  The Wendigo and Demon chose that moment to decide they were tired of w
aiting on the sidelines. Andrei intercepted the Demon and Melas jumped forward, not wanting Ridhor to leave Zura’s side to combat the Wendigo.

  Not wanting to take another hit, she let her focus drop away from the guys to focus on the being that stood at least three of her tall. Its reach swiping for her, wrapping her up in its long, sharp fingers. She grunted in its grasp as it lifted her through the air. Its other hand swiping down at the beings surrounding them as it turned to make its way back to where it had been standing in wait.

  Her arms were held at her sides. She felt the string of the bow groan and snap before the wood was pressed painfully into her back.

  Ridhor let out a growl and she worried he would transform into his Berserker and become more risk to Zura than her protector.

  Stop being so complacent. The thought shot through her.

  Feeling the grip of the colt in her hand, she squeezed the trigger.

  The force from the shot made the limbs wrapped around her explode outward, every knobby hinge of the beast’s fingers bent in the opposite direction. A wave of energy separated them.

  She flew back through the air, landing hard on the roof of a car. The air knocked from her lungs as she slammed down onto the hood. Rolling onto her side, she wrapped her hands around her middle, the revolvers still in her grip.

  A wheeze escaped her lips as she tried to suck air into her lungs, but they refused to take any in. Groaning, she ignored the darkness rimming her vision and the metallic taste in her mouth. She fired another shot at the Wendigo, she would breathe later.

  It leapt away from where it stood, its long fingernails sinking into the side of a store as it hung from it. Its gaze on her as it held its hand outstretched. The bones snapped, contorting as they went back to their original place.

  The Demon bellowed, falling to his knee before a portal opened under him and he disappeared, leaving Andrei swiping at thin air.

  The Wendigo watched her for a moment, its head swinging back between where the Demon had been and where Melas still struggled to catch her breath. A portal appeared on the wall beside it and it slowly sunk into it. Another bellow and breath of smoke and the Minotaur was gone too.

  Whatever was left of the horde disappeared in front of their eyes leaving the three guys standing there, bodies both human and magical beings still scattered around.

  Another wave from the Reapers and the streets were bare before they too disappeared.

  Andrei’s eyes were rimmed in red, his shirt completely gone and a long cut from his chest across to his hip. His chest heaved, his nostrils flaring as he turned and quickly stalked over to where Melas was still trying to push herself off the roof of the car.

  Melas swallowed a groan, finally sliding off the roof leaning her weight against the door. Closing her eyes, she felt that tug around her heart and smiled lightly to herself.

  Zura.

  As though sensing her too, Zura pushed out from behind the massive bear with an ease that shouldn’t be possible for a five-year-old and ran across the street towards her. Leaping, she threw herself at Melas.

  Wrapping her arms around her, she held onto her tightly, the revolvers slipping from her grasp. The magic left them as soon as they left her grip, returning to standard-issued Glocks before they hit the ground.

  With Zura in her arms, she slowly slid down the side of the car to sit on the ground. Eye-level with Zura, she managed to get enough air in her lungs to let out a sigh of relief. “You okay, baby?” Her voice was raspy.

  Zura’s eyes turned, searching over her. They paused on the wound on her shoulder, a sick sizzling sound like pop rocks being dissolved coming from the hole accompanied by a slight green smoke. Her eyes followed Zura’s. As soon as she looked at the wound, fresh pain erupted from the spot she’d nearly forgotten about.

  “Does it hurt?” Zura’s eyes were wide with worry, her lip wobbling slightly.

  She shook her head. “I’m sure things have hurt worse. How about you, baby?” Her hands roamed over her, searching for any sign someone got their hands on her daughter.

  Shaking her head, Zura’s eyes dropped down to Melas’ leg. “Mama.” She pointed.

  Exhaustion slowly ebbed its way in as the warrior inside her went back to sleep, hibernating until she needed her again. With the exhaustion, her nerve endings shot awake. They screamed, every cut, bump, and bruise begging for her attention. Ignoring the wave of pain strong enough to knock her over, she looked down to where Zura’s eyes were glued to her leg.

  A piece of plastic protruded from her thigh. A piece of the roof rack sticking up from her flesh. Looking away, she caught Zura’s worried eyes with her own. “Don’t worry about it love, just a scratch.”

  Orren was at her side, lifting Zura from the ground to clutch her to his chest. His silver eyes looked her over. “Are you alright, little one?”

  Andrei was behind him, his gaze torn between Zura and Melas.

  Before he could step forward, Ridhor was there in a pair of bottoms that looked way too small, scooping her into his arms. His eyes took in the piece of plastic in her leg, carefully adjusting his hold on her before settling on the hole in her shoulder. Anger tightened his jaw. “Orren, get us home.”

  The ward still in place overhead, he opened a portal and they all stepped through.

  42

  MELAS

  Zura was worried. Her eyes wide as she watched Ridhor set Melas down on the chair in her room. Andrei sensed it. He stepped between them putting on the playful smile he always wore. “Hey Princess, how about we go get cleaned up and changed while Ridhor looks after your mom.”

  “No.” Her voice was forceful.

  He shot Orren a look over his head. He closed his eyes for a moment before two Nightmares appeared. “Your friends will stay with you. Once you’re all cleaned up you can come right back. Promise.”

  Melas gave her a light smile. “It’s okay, baby. We’re just going to patch me up good as new, then I’ll come see you. Okay?”

  The Nightmares took Zura’s hand, slowly leading her away. “Come get me right away.” Her eyes burned amber, defiance surging through her.

  “I will.” She let out a breath as soon as Zura was gone. She didn’t want her here when they pulled that out of her leg or assessed whatever damage there was to her shoulder. She could still feel it burning, eating away at her flesh inside.

  A portal opened in the room and Alette came through. “I was wondering if you guys would call for us any time soon.” She smiled. It dropped away when she saw everyone’s condition.

  Orren was covered in blood of different colours. Reds, greens, and even blacks. His clothes were practically in tatters, his lips set in a firm line.

  Andrei was covered with just as much blood as Orren. His golden eyes almost black, rimmed in red, his teeth poking his bottom lip. His wounds had long healed, but his anger still burned bright.

  Ridhor looked the most normal of the four of them. He wore shorts from one of the stores he stole but hadn’t made sure they were the right size. They were a tad too small and a weird pastel pink that didn’t suit him. Whatever blood had been on him as he swatted through beings in bear form didn’t cling to his skin when he changed.

  Blood pooled on the chair as Ridhor set out the supplies he would need to tend to her. He frowned, the hole in her shoulder concerning him more than the plastic in her leg. He didn’t need to rush until it was removed. Better to tend to the wound he thought more pressing.

  “Alette. The wound here, it’s still burning.”

  Her silver wings quickly carried her over the space as Cricket stepped through the portal behind her and it closed. Small purple fingers pulled down Melas’ shirt. Her brow furrowed as her silver eyes took in the wound. Dipping her head, she inhaled sharply. “They’re using Gorgon blood.” Her eyes widened. “How long since she got the wound?”

  “Half hour, at least.”

  Had it been that long? She wondered.

  Cricket’s eyes were wide as she came u
p behind Alette. “Half hour and she still stands?” Their eyes met.

  “I’ve never heard of anyone using Gorgon’s blood. What does it do?” Andrei asked.

  Waving her hands, a small garden grew from the carpet at Melas’ feet. The flowers bloomed quickly as Alette plucked a lush purple flower and a pale green one. She flew across the room, scooping up a vase and dumping the decorative flowers to the floor before putting the two she plucked inside. A large yellow flower bloomed, instead of using the whole flower, she plucked some petals and added them.

  She held the vase to Cricket. “Rainwater.”

  Cricket held her hand over the vase, creating a small storm inside.

  Alette wasted no time, bringing the vase over. Plucking a long leaf that grew from the garden at Melas’ feet, she sunk it into the now glowing liquid and pulled it out to roll it into a ball. “This will hurt.” She used her small hands to work the ball completely into the wound.

  The pain was almost enough to knock her out. The taste of blood filled her mouth as she bit into her cheek to keep from screaming.

  “What does Gorgon blood do?” Andrei repeated, impatiently.

  Alette’s eyes watched the wound with bated breath, only breathing again when a soft pink mist wafted from the wound. “Not many know how deadly Gorgon blood is. Those who do are not foolish enough to try and get some. I’ve never known anyone who has taken a wound with a weapon dipped in Gorgon’s blood who survived. Most burn from the inside out, completely turning to ash within five to ten minutes.”

  All eyes turned to Melas. Rolling her eyes, she took the bottle of whiskey Ridhor held out to her. “Yes, yes. I know. I’m not human. Blah, blah, blah.” Every time something new popped up, they had this discussion. It had been a while, so they were due for another but she was too tired right now. The sudden relief Alette just gave her made her eyes feel heavy, her arms like noodles.

  “Melas was the target. Why would they shoot her with arrows dipped in Gorgon’s blood if they were hoping to take her?” Orren wondered out loud.